Okay, so this chapter is like the last one; it's all in the past. Next chapter will include the present.
A week later, there was a knocking at my bedroom door as I lay there, idly listening to music and waiting for something exciting to happen. I jumped slightly in shock.
"Come in," I called. The door opened slowly to reveal the curly haired blonde, Peyton. We'd become rather good friends over the past week. I'd bonded with Brooke, Haley, Peyton, and Jake really quickly. I felt like I'd been one of them since forever. They'd all been friends since they were kids, and they accepted me easily. "Hey Peyton."
"Hey Luke," she grinned, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Nice song choice."
"Thanks," I said, sitting up. "What's up?"
"Nothing," she said, shrugging. "I was just driving around, figured I'd stop by."
"Brooke was gonna come over later," I said. "Maybe the three of us can hang out."
"Are you into Brooke?" she asked, a half teasing, half angry tone to her voice.
"And if I am?"
"It's just...a bad idea," Peyton said.
"Why is that?"
"Because, she's...she's Brooke," Peyton explained. "You guys would be the worst couple ever."
I suddenly felt defensive of the brunette. "No we wouldn't! We have fun together, and she's a great girl."
"Yeah, but all it could ever be would be fun," Peyton nagged.
"You don't know that," I replied, glaring slightly. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something. Whatever it was, I really didn't want to hear it. She was interrupted by my door swinging open to reveal the bubbly brunette in question.
"All right, Broody, we're gonna do something fun today!" Brooke said happily. She stopped in her tracks and blinked. "P.Sawyer!"
"Hey," Peyton said curtly. Brooke raised her eyebrows but shrugged the moody girl off.
"Wanna come with?" Brooke offered.
"No," Peyton said shortly. "I have stuff to do."
With that, she stormed out, and Brooke watched after her for a moment before shaking her head and grinning at me.
"Let's go then, Luke!" she squeaked, grabbing my hands and pulling me up. I chuckled.
"Where are we going, Crazy Girl?" I asked as she dashed down the stairs, dragging me with her.
"Ice skating, of course!" was her enthusiastic response.
"In the summer?" I asked.
"That's the best time, silly!"
We decided to take my car, and Brooke hopped in the front seat excitedly, taking over the stereo with pop music and directing me where to go.
When I pulled into the parking lot, Brooke leapt from the car, galloping forward with vigor. I watched her, smiling, as she turned, giggling, and winked at me.
"C'mon, Lucas!" she yelled to me. "What are you waiting for?"
I swung the car door open and followed her into the freezing cold building. I rubbed my arms with my hands, shivering. Brooke was already at the counter, getting skates.
The guy working the counter was obviously trying to hit on her. She looked slightly uncomfortable with it, but smiled shiftily every now and then. She looked up at me with pleading eyes as she wrinkled her nose. I laughed at her for a second before approaching.
I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled my face into her hair. "Hey baby."
She giggled, turning to me with a wink as she kissed my cheek. "Hey babe!"
The guy behind the counter rubbed the back of his neck, asked me for my size, and we paid for the shoes, holding back the urge to laugh. Brooke grabbed my hand as we walked to a bench to put our skates on.
"Thanks for that," Brooke said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Anytime, babe," I teased. She nudged me with her shoulder as she laced up her iceskates.
"You coulda warned me before we got in the car, y'know," I said. "It's freezing in here!"
"And that," Brooke chirped, "is why I brought you this."
She reached into her oversized purse and handed me my favorite Scott Body Shop sweatshirt. I hadn't seen it in days, and I grinned, thanking her.
"Where'd you get this?" I asked.
"I kind of stole it a few days ago," she said with a wince.
"You little..." I mock-threatened. She laughed and pulled herself onto the rink while putting her mittens on. I chuckled, following her. She was skating away as fast as she could, which was a little wobbly.
Back when I lived in L.A. with Ma, I was an ice hockey star. Brooke didn't know that, though. I caught up with her easily, grabbing her hand and spinning her around. She squeaked, colliding with my chest.
We both stumbled, falling onto the ice. Each of her hands were on either side of my face, and she was only an inch or so away from me. I wasn't sure if I couldn't breath because she'd knocked the wind out of me, or if it was because of her close proximity. I didn't have much time to ponder this fact as she slid off of me with ease, giving me a smirk.
"Well, well, well, Lucas Scott," she teased, "looks like you swept me off my feet"
"Looks like it," I grinned as we both got up and started skating around.
Brooke put her arms out, closing her eyes and grinning as she threw her head back. "Ah, I love ice skating."
"You don't seem to be very good at it," I mocked her, and she opened her eyes, looking scandalized.
"That may be so," Brooke pouted, "but at least I'm not a bigheaded meanie head."
"Ouch, that really hurt," I gasped, grasping at my heart.
"Oh, shut up!" she shrieked, smacking my chest. I grabbed her hands and skated in front of her backwards.
"Wanna see what it's like to go fast on the ice?"
She grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes!"
"Hang on tight," I beamed at her, beginning to speedily skate backwards. She squealed and laughed with excitement, giggling as I dragged her swiftly across the ice.
Her gloved hands were warm in mine and I felt a spark travel up my arms. My stomach almost gave out when I looked at her, her hair blowing around her with our velocity, her eyes alight with happiness. She was smiling and giggling, and I couldn't help but grin back.
I was finally getting tired and she let go of my hands.
"Woah, Brooke!" I shouted after her. She'd launched off like a bullet, screeching.
"Ah!" she screamed.
That is, until she hit the ice. I cracked up laughing for about thirty seconds; she'd looked ridiculous, flailing and squawking. Then I looked at her, and noticed the ice turning red around her.
"BROOKE!" I yelled, skating as fast as I could. I slid on the ice beside her, turning her over. There was a huge gash in her head, and she was unconscious. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, still holding her head in my lap.
"Nate, it's me," I barked into the phone. "Brooke's had an accident. Meet me at the hospital."
I hung up before realizing that I'd failed to call an ambulance. I did so, then called for help. The rental boy from earlier helped me get her off the ice, laying her on a bench. From there, all I could so was wait.